A Common Theme
by bouncingcrow
Summary: A very tongue-in-cheek look at two lines that have grabbed many a fan's imaginations and tugged mercilessly. No offense is meant! I just kept seeing the lines, and I wanted to play with them. Natasha and Clint and a few surprise guests!
1. Snitch

A Common Theme

**Summary: A light-hearted and very tongue-in-cheek look at two lines that have grabbed many a fan's imaginations and tugged mercilessly. No offense is meant! I just kept seeing the lines, and I wanted to play with them.**

**Disclaimer: I did not write the original screenplay, comic boards, or any other part of Marvel that used these lines in the first place.**

_The Red Room, Russia_

Natalia Romanova, not yet Natasha Romanoff, not yet (officially) Black Widow, SHIELD operative and super assassin, sat in the cold, unyielding and unwelcoming office of her instructor. The chair beneath her was a crude wooden excuse for seating, meant to make those sitting on it uncomfortable. She was being scrutinized mercilessly.

"Ms. Romanova. Your little friend told us all about it. I'm afraid you've been compromised."

She gulped. That little traitor had told their teacher about the cheat sheet. Her fingers curled into her palms, her fists already thirsting for revenge.

The instructor, a tall and lean man in his fifties, short-cropped hair and fierce features, reached for the desk and drew out his hated and feared red pen. She watched in horror as he took pen to paper and wrote "0, F, for cheating" on the paper, followed by a similar mark inside his grade book.

"You now have red in your ledger. This will not go away. You'd best play nice for the rest of your time here because you can't just flunk out here."

Natalia's eyes focused hard on an object that was not this man, and she simply nodded. There was a moment of silence that stretched on uncomfortably; finally, the man said curtly, "You are dismissed."

…

Natalia found the girl on her bunk, her pretty blonde curls splayed over the flat pillow. She was not really sleeping, and Natalia found herself hating the girl for even thinking to pretend, for even thinking that the poorly execute ruse would work on her.

When Natalia walks away, the girl is not so pretty, and red stains the girl's hair the same way that red marker now stained her file in the central office. She felt a little more pleased, or at least self-satisfied.


	2. Ink Stained Wretch

**Quick Note: It was brought to my attention that the ending of the last chapter did slide away from the light-hearted feel I was originally intending. This chapter should make up for it!**

The Black Widow leaned against the wall of the alley way, watching a group of burly men run past. She would smile at their stupidity if it weren't actually a little sad. Of course she could kill them all, but for the moment, she was content just fulfilling the information-gathering portion of her mission.

With all of the cool and calm of one trained from childhood for these sorts of things, which of course, she had been, she strolled to the door, swiped the stolen access card, and stepped inside. No alarms sounded, and the guards had been easily distracted, leaving her wide open spaces.

She took the stairs, not trusting elevators in these fully-automated buildings. 10 flights...15...20, and bingo. The maps had been older, but they worked just the same; she found the room she was looking for easily enough. It helped that it was labeled with the man's name. She tried to the door. Unlocked.

_Too easy_, she mused.

Once inside the room, the Black Widow closed the door once more and gave her eyes some time to adjust to the lower level of light inside the quiet office. The desk was situated, as usual, by the window that offered a sweeping view of the city. She slid through the shadows to the piece of furniture and took a seat in the cushy executive chair on the other side.

For just a moment, she gave herself the satisfaction of leaning back into the leather folds. These were her moments – stolen seconds of small creature comforts that others took for granted. But the indulgence ended quickly, and she was focused once again at the task at hand. She rummaged through the drawers; of course, she should be more careful, more calculating, but she was bored and ready to be done.

In the fourth drawer she tried, under scraps of paper and a picture of a happy family with one face burned out – _marital problems_, she grinned – there it was. She pulled out the thin leather booklet and flipped it onto the desk to take a peak, double check. Sure enough, the secondary accounts, those not available through accounting, were in there. She smiled and began to stand, and somehow in her haste, she realized belatedly that she had knocked something over.

She watched in mild shock and irritation as the bottle of ink opened and bled onto the page. She tapped her comm, "The mission has been compromised," her eyes returned to the ink-stained pages, "there is, ah, red on this ledger. You can't read all of the numbers."

She waited.

"Bring it anyway."

"Yes, sir."


	3. Just a Bit of Pun

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, those of you have alerted/favorited. And thank you! I have been working on some of my darker stuff...and...getting married. But all done with that now! So back to some fun. I've thought about this for a while, and I'm going to pun it up in this one.**

Tony Stark held the folder in his hand, closed for the moment, but just in case, he had put the solid marble kitchen island between them, and they were dancing around it like school kids.

Natasha, for her part, was shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

"Tony, damnit, give that back!"

He waved the folder at her teasingly, "I'm sorry, Ms. Rushman, er, Agent Romanoff, I just don't think I understand _exactly_ what it is you want from me?"

She gripped the edge of the island until her knuckled were white, "The manilla fucking folder in your left fucking hand. I want you to slide it onto this marble counter," she slammed her index finger onto the top of the island to make her point clear, "right this moment!"

He looked at the folder in his hand, switching it to his right, "This one?"

They were drawing a crowd. Pepper arrived first, her face flush with embarrassment. Bruce stayed back, chuckling, and Clint walked in just in time to see Natasha aim one of her charged bites at the thrill-seeker.

Tony threw up both hands and flashed a charming smile, "Hey. I know. Let's compromise."

"I don't _compromise_," she growled, holding her other hand out, palm-up, to receive the folder.

Clint cleared his throat and spoke up, "Nat, ah, what's going on?"

They answered simultaneously:

Tony with a grin, "Nothing!"

Natasha with a snarl, "He's read in my ledger!"

The marksman threw up his hands and turned away.

**Author's Final Note: Totally cheesy right? Sorry! But I love puns. I am _that_ person. :)**


	4. A Little Red Hammer

**Author's Note: Okay, I was watching Iron Man 2 again, and they used our favorite phrase! So here is another take on a common theme...**

Tony watched the stage as he descended, briefly considering "accidentally" landing on Hammer, but it might be bad for publicity, and Pepper was already mad at him.

_But she should be proud_, he thought, as he resisted the urge to wave at the cheering crowd. _Focus_.

He landed and, ignoring the crowd entirely now, he approached Rhodes in his...well, what was once his Mach II, "We got trouble."

He knew the look on Rhodes's face without seeing it, "Tony, there are civilians present, I'm here on orders; let's not do this right now."

_Typical, not seeing the obvious here_, Tony thought, throwing up his left hand and wrapping his right arm around Rhodes, "Give them a wave."

Then, leaning closer, he added, "All of these people are in danger; we've got to get them outta here. You've got to trust me for the next five minutes."

There was a scoff, "Yeah, the last time you said that, I got tossed around your house-"

_How can he not see there is no time for this? Time for the big guns._

"I think he's working with Vanko."

Rhodes barely kept the incredulity out of his voice, "Vanko's alive?"

But Tony had already walked over to Hammer, his focus unshakeable, "Where is he?"

Hammer was sweating bullets, or what he might try to pass for bullets, "What?"

He was backing him up, "Where's Vanko?"

"Who?"

"Tell me."

Hammer was stammering, trying to find a way out, "What are you doing her-"

But a noise behind Tony had already gotten his attention. Rhodes was saying something.

"Woah, woah, woah!"

He turned to see the gun on Rhodes's shoulder aiming toward him, "Is that you?"

"No! That's not – I'm not doing that. It's not me! I can't move him. I'm locked up; I'm locked up!"

From the pitch of his voice, Tony felt sure that Rhodes was not about to shoot him...at least not consciously. And then the droids started raising their arms, too, and Tony realized that Rhodes was talking again.

"Get outta here. Go! This whole system's been compromised!"

He cued his propulsion system, blasting up to the hole in the ceiling, and he heard the arsenal coming after him, just before the glass of the gorgeous piece of architecture that was his Expo started to shatter.

Compromised, Tony thought, is an understatement. I'll say it's been compromised. By Vanko. Hammer hired the dirty Russian...probably had a whole lot of Soviet Red in his ledger by now.


End file.
